The Tournament of Death
by LineApe
Summary: Harry discovers a good way to use the Goblet of Fire; A tournament! To the death! You decide the outcome each match by poll. Beware of crack. Today's fight: "Bellatrix Lestrange vs. Rabastan Lestrange!"
1. Intro

The Tournament… of death!

* * *

In the middle of town square, the assembled crowd stood anxiously; the air alive with the heavy buzz of thousands of simultaneous conversations.

They were all waiting there in Hogsmeade for one reason: Harry Potter.

Arrogantly, or perhaps courageously, the moron had challenged the Dark Lord and all of his followers to a duel.

The prophet, eager to publish anything about 'the chosen one' pounced on the story and made it front-page news.

Over the week since the challenge had been extended, numerous rumours had spread far and wide.

Harry Potter was dying and needed to kill you-know-who before he did!

Harry Potter had found a super-powerful and ancient curse to destroy all evil!

Harry Potter had gone completely bat-shit insane!

The last one was the most prominent, but wizards loved their gossip and they felt the need to spread their stories as far as they could possibly go. Truth be damned!

More than gossip however, wizards loved a good old-fashioned train wreck, perhaps a fall from grace, or _especially_ public humiliation.

Wizards ate that shit up.

That is why they had so easily believed the stories the previous year about Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore being crazy.

Moreover, that is why they had arrived in droves to an otherwise empty street; they wanted to watch Harry Potter get utterly obliterated by he-who-must-not-be-named.

It might turn out be gruesome, but it'll probably be some damn good entertainment!

As the minutes passed, and the predetermined time grew near, the crowd mutterings began to grew louder.

"…Will he show?"

"…Hear they're both parselmouths…"

"…My aunt says that…"

"…I think he's cute, Harry not You-kn…"

As the seconds counted down the collective volume increased, and so did the excitement in the air.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

At that moment, a figure walked out from behind the stage.

Harry Potter!

He slowly walked forward, and scanned the crowd as if looking for a specific face.

As he stopped behind a podium, the crowd noise hit a crescendo. Taking a moment, and hoping for the volume to decrease, he stood still and waited.

After a good minute of eardrum shattering noise, and seeing no end in sight, he raised a hand signalling for the horde to settle down.

Removing a wand from his sleeve, and placing it near his throat, he intoned, "Sonorus!"

"Quiet down!"

Instant silence.

"Hello! I'm glad you could all could come!"

Cheers sprung up from all directions.

"However, before we start with the duel I have something to announce!"

As he turned around, the whole crowd's attention drew to a large object covered by a white sheet.

"It is my great honour to announce," he shouted, pulling the sheet free, "The beginning of this year's Tri-Wizard Tournament!"

The announcement was greeted with countless variations of, "Whaaa?"

Seeing no point in waiting for the crowd to settle, he continued, "As we all know now, I never actually entered the previous tournament. Looking back I wondered, 'Hey, I never entered it, so why the hell was I magically compelled to compete?'"

The previously quiet crowd started muttering amongst themselves asking their neighbours similar questions.

"After a little research I discovered the answer, all the goblet of fire requires for a valid entry is either the name of a contestant written by the contestant's hand, or a predetermined action that can be construed as consent." He said, and catching his breath he continued, "For example, for this tournament, I entered forty names."

Looking around the crowd, he posed the question, "Did you know that Hogwarts keeps all assigned schoolwork and essays written by students for eighty years as a matter of proper record keeping? As such, I have taken the liberty of entering a a few names of Hogwarts Alumni for this glorious tournament!"

Many screams of outrage were heard.

"Of course, not all members of this tournament could be entered this way, because as we all know our esteemed headmaster is well over the century mark. It took some doing, but I eventually found his signature on my parent's will. It seems that by using his power as chief warlock he was able to ignore the will and place me with my abusive relatives. Everyone say hello to them would you?"

Saying this, the whole Dursley family was floated across the stage by an extremely happy house elf.

"There was one person on my list who did not attend Hogwarts, but by arriving today and accepting my duel, Mr. Antonin Doholov has also entered. Have I missed anything?" he scratched his chin in thought before continuing, "Oh yes! Tom Marvolo Riddle aka Voldemort has at this time five horcruxes, which in laymen terms is a soul container used to attempt immortality. By coming here today Tom has also entered his horcruxes into the tournament as well. How wonderful!"

An angry storm of magic swiftly pulsated through the crowd.

"Settle down Tom, as a previous winner, I am entitled to open future tournaments. The rules of this tournament are as follows:"

"Rule one, no one outside of the tournament may be hurt during its duration! That includes me!"

"Rule two, backing out of said tournament means death!"

"Rule three, my word is law, and cannot be contested!"

"And finally, rule four, I reserve the right to change the rules as I go!"

The crowd was rather quiet and confused at this point.

"Oh, and since at this point there are forty champions, the tournament's name 'The Tri-Wizard Tournament' shall be changed and be henceforth referred to as… 'The Tournament… of death!' Remember the dramatic pause people, it's important."

"The first task starts now! Those in the following list must join me on the stage within ten minutes, or they will die!"

He started with, "Tom Riddle aka Voldemort!" and after over three dozen names he finished with, "Ron Weasley!"

"Remember those not up here in ten minutes will be in breach of contract and will die! Cheerio!"

Dozens of wizards and witches scrambled to make it onto the stage.

While they all made fools of themselves, Harry just stood there, cool as a cucumber; tapping his feet impatiently. He glanced at his watch from time to time.

After the ten minutes passed, Harry said, "Are we missing anyone?" After making a proper headcount he then said, "We are currently missing: Avery, Mulciber, Jugson, Thorfinn Rowle, Unknown Horcruxes #1, #2, #3, and #4."

"Being as they are not currently up here, then those of you on the list are either dead, or if you are a horcrux then you are not a sentient being and I am talking to nothing at all. Anyways! No time to waste, on to the second task!"

Clearing his throat he continued, "I call the second task the uber task of deathness, but you can still call it the second task if you like. Basically, this is just a dueling tournament, single win elimination, to the death."

After looking at the sheet of paper with the names for a moment he said, "Excellent, thirty-two names! A perfect number for a tournament! Not planned at all! Now, I would like to point out that these matches are totally random, and in no way did I arrange them for my own amusement! My word is law people!"

"We fight to the death! First match: Tom Riddle aka Voldemort vs. Percy Weasley!"

* * *

AN

* * *

Okay folks, here's the deal; I will end each chapter with the names of the next match. I will have a blind poll in my profile and every single match will be decided by you!

Votes from the poll, and votes via review will be compiled and then I will write a fight based on your winner! Some will be long, others will embarrassingly short.

I will post a link to a bracket, and you can all take a look or fill it out for your own enjoyment. Think march madness meets battle royale meets American Idol.

Basically, a popularity contest where everyone you hate dies painfully. Not much unlike the careers of reality TV contestants after the end of their shows…

Now get up, and vote for your champion!

If your shy, a simple name is all I need. :D

Cheers!

-Lineape

PS: This idea came to me while talking to Slytherin66, so credit (or perhaps blame?) goes to him for being such a good sounding board.

* * *

AN: April 4, 2010

I made a minor change in how i labeled and numbered the horcruxes.

Thanks to 'demort for pointing it out.

-Lineape


	2. Voldemort vs Percy

Tom Riddle vs. Percy Weasley

* * *

"Now, as our two champions make their way to the stage, I would like to address all our listeners on the wireless." Harry said, speaking into a microphone, "These duels will not be taking place on a standard British league dueling stage, but rather on an American style 'dueling pit'. As such, the course is randomly littered with rocks and debris to allow for the better use of battle transfiguration. It also gives the added benefit of cover for the duelists."

"And now it's time to introduce our two champions! In one corner is Percy Weasley. Percy was named head-boy – or big-head boy depending on whom you ask – in his final year at hogwarts. As a pure-blood and low rung ministry employee, Percy has spent much of his career thus far strongly advocating for better regulation of cauldron bottom thickness."

"In the other corner is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Also head boy in his final year, Tom is a half-blood with a muggle father. Tom has spent much of his life battling self-hate over his 'filthy muggle father' and his tainted blood, as it were. His whole reign of terror has thus been an attempt to overcompensate for his blood status, and perhaps a smallish penis."

"I am not a half-blood!" A voice shouted from the dueling pit.

"Note that he did not deny the smallish penis. Okay new rule, all champions must tell the truth at all times! Now Tom, are you a half-blood?" Harry asked.

There was no response.

"Tom? Ah, better to stay silent than to admit the truth. Okay, another new rule, champions must respond to my questions. Now Tom, are you a half-blood?"

"...Yes"

"And there we are." Harry said smugly.

"Harry, why am I a part of this death tournament thing?" asked Percy.

"Well, you missed out on the last tournament by a year, and I thought that you would like a chance to compete. Plus, it would go great on your resume. I'm sure that if you were a year younger then you would have entered no?"

"Perhaps..." Percy said, compelled to tell the truth.

"Anyways, we're wasting time; so many people to die, so little time. Match start!"

Percy instantly dove behind a large boulder, but Tom just stood still.

"So a Weasley first off..." the dark lord said, "Your family has been a constant thorn in my side over the years. It seems poetic that you will be the first to die; Reducto!"

As the spell's magic splashed across the stone, Percy's cover instantly exploded outward.

Too bad he had already moved.

"Ha! So they teach blood-traitors how to dodge now?" Tom laughed, "Let us see how far the head-boy's post has fallen; how do you respond if I do this! Reducto, Incarcious, Avada Kadevra!"

Riddle continued to laugh as he sent spell after spell in the redhead's direction.

For every spell, Percy had an answer.

For the blasting curse he dodged to the left, sending a stunner back in return.

For the rope-binding hex he met it with a fire curse, incinerating the ropes mid-air.

As a killing curse flew in his direction, he dove behind another boulder; watching as the upper portion of the rock blew off.

Still laughing, Tom wandlessly swatted away the stunner and started to circle around the arena.

"So you're not completely useless." he said, "Lord Voldemort likes a challenge."

"For those who are confused, Tom just spoke of himself in the third person. He also referred to himself with a made-up name," Harry interrupted, "that might just be an indicator of an unbalanced mind."

"Silence Potter!" Dark lord thingy screamed, "I grow tired of these games; where is the blood traitor!? If you, Potter, can't be touched yet, then that stupid ginger will do for now!"

The 'stupid ginger' had used Harry's distraction to sneak up behind the evil bastard, and after a deep breath he let loose a slew of curses.

"Confringo, Diffindo, Confundo, Expulso!"

Tom swore under his breath threw up a hasty shield.

The blasting curse shattered his weak shield; forced to dodge the severing charm for fear of losing a limb, he dodged to his right.

Rolling once, he landed on his feet. The dark lord quickly conjured a brick wall to hide behind; the confundus charm uselessly dissipating on the surface.

The brick wall exploded into pieces when the explosive curse hit, but Voldemort was already on the move.

Vision blocked by the solid wall, Percy never saw the dark lord sprinting to the side and getting a clear shot of his unprotected left side.

"Avada Kadevra!"

He heard the dark lord's voice, and seeing a flash of green in the corner of his eye, Percy hastily summoned an object from a nearby store, hoping to place it in the curse's way.

He was horrified to discover that what he summoned was a cheap knockoff cauldron from china.

The thin bottom did nothing to impede the trajectory of the curse. As it hit him in the chest, Percy's last living thought was, 'If only I'd lobbied harder for an international standard for cauldron bottom thickness…'

His body crumpled to the ground. Lifeless.

The crowd cheered loudly.

"Winner: Tom Riddle! What a wonderful fight people!" harry shouted, "I'm going to talk to the winner."

Walking up to the dark lord harry asked, "How does it feel to win your first match?"

"Fuck off Potter."

"There you have it folks!" he said, "It was a great fight, but let us not forget the loser, Mr. Percy Weasley. Perhaps the young man will have more success in death than in life with his fight against sub-standard import cauldrons."

"As we move onto the next fight, I would like to remind everyone that these matchups are totally random. I totally didn't just pick fights that I wanted to see."

"Next up, Nagini the snake vs Augustus Rookwood!"

* * *

AN: This is fun. I'd never written a fight scene before, I hope it wasn't terrible.

The vote on this one was overwhelmingly on a Voldemort win. I'll post a link in my profile to the now closed and un-blind poll to prove that I'm not just picking the winners I want.

I can only keep something like twentyish polls on , so eventually I will need to take down the old ones, thus at some point the link to the poll will go away.

The idea for Percy's death came from Slytherin66. What can I say, the guy is a fountain of good ideas.

-Lineape

PS: Vote!


	3. Nagini vs Rookwood

Nagini vs. Augustus Rookwood

* * *

"Our next two competitors are both supporters of the half-blood who fancies himself a dark lord," Harry announced, "On one side we have the dark lord's familiar Nagini. She's a snake, if you hadn't already noticed. For some reason, Tom felt the need to make his snake – an animal that will die of natural causes at some point – into a horcrux."

Many in the crowd chuckled at that revelation.

"I know, I know, it doesn't make much sense to me either." He said, "then again, a half-blood that wants to kill anyone without so called 'pure blood' clearly isn't that bright. Anywho, in the other corner is Augustus Rookwood; aside the deatheaterness, he seems to be an okay bloke. Anyone that talked with him before his first stint in Azkaban would have thought him to be a stand up kind of guy, but alas, he was a spy and a good one at that. His help was implicit in the death of my godfather, and for that he deserves to be in this glorious tournament."

"Is everyone in place? No? Tom, get away from your snake and stop whispering sweet nothings in its ear. No one aside the snake can understand you anyways. Hmm, strange, I can't understand you either… interesting," he said giving his latest development a little thought, "in any case, get out of the ring Tom, or you will be considered part of the course and Nagini will be able to use you as cover."

"I'm going…" the dark lord muttered.

"Excellent. All set now? Good. Match start!"

The second he started the match, Rookwood sent a trio of blasting curses at the snake.

Nagini, however, was extremely agile; none of the three curses landed within ten feet of her.

Rookwood was no fool; he knew that in close combat, the snake had the advantage.

With no way to hit him long range, and no way he could hit her up close, he formulated a plan.

After waving his wand in a few complex motions, he pointed it at a small cluster of rocks to his right, and transfigured them into one of a snake's natural enemies, a fox.

"Ohh! From rocks to a fox! All he needs is a box, some socks, and a couple clocks and we'd have the start of a Dr. Seuss book!" Harry cried.

Rolling his eyes at the annoying commentary, Rookwood sent the fox on its way.

After a moment of thought and feeling the need for a decisive victory, he transfigured two more and sent them off as well.

Seeing the beast coming, Nagini readied itself for one hell of a fight.

Using all the muscles in its body, the snake sprang forward, its mouth spread wide and ready to bite the beast.

The fox ducked to the side at the last second, batting the snake's head away with its front paws, the fox rolled twice before landing on its feet; ready to attack.

The snake was ready too; it struck almost instantly and went for the unprotected left side of the orange colored beast.

The fox moved quickly, but not quickly enough; it howled in pain as the fangs punctured his side.

Ready to defend himself, the fox turned to attack only to see the snake already gone.

It could only whimper as it felt the strong jaw of the snake clamp down over its throat.

The snake bit down as hard as it could; tasting the flesh of her conquest.

The feeling of victory was short lived however, as another fox was fast approaching.

The snake let go of the limp body, and darted away to an area littered with rocks of various shapes and sizes; the perfect battleground for a snake.

It slid between a couple rocks, and lay in wait.

The fox ran to the still body of its orange haired companion. After poking the lifeless corpse with a paw, the fox let out a loud bark and set out in the direction of that damn snake.

His nose lead him to a rough patch of ground; it circled around, searching for his prey.

It took in its surroundings one last time before venturing towards the smell once again.

Not seconds after climbing over its first rock, the fox was forced to the ground as the snake wrapped itself around it's torso; squeezing the life out of him while taking quick bites all over his body

The snake let the body drop, and then set off towards the human; careful not to be seen, Nagini snuck up behind the human and observed.

The stupid human just made another of the beasts, a third, and sent it off in the wrong direction.

Fool. If the first two failed, why would another work?

Its sprung forward, and secured its chops over the stupid human's leg.

Rookwood let out a painful scream as he felt the bite.

With a severing charm on his lips he pointed his wand at the snake, but before he could let loose, the snake had already moved.

Nagini wrapped herself around the man, and bit him in the arm, then the chest, then the other leg.

Rookwood tried to shake the snake off, and he tried to stab the snake with a quickly conjured knife, but his movements were growing slower.

As a last ditch effort, he tried to stake the serpent through his own arm, but he was too slow and only ended up stabbing himself.

Losing all energy, he dropped to his knees.

Then his side.

Then he died, a pool of blood pooling around him.

"Winner, Nagini the snake!" Harry cried, "Given that I don't want to talk to a snake, let's move on!"

"Next match, Vincent Crabbe vs. Crabbe sr.!"

* * *

AN: Fun fun fun.


	4. Vincent Crabbe vs Crabbe Sr

Vincent Crabbe vs. Crabbe Sr.

* * *

Harry waited as Dobby floated the corpse from the field.

"What a good fight that was, but this next one will be a real treat! Oh the drama; Father and son! In one corner is sixth year Hogwarts student; Vincent Crabbe! Vincent is a pure-blood and is heir to his family. He is a big fan of pudding, and from what I have gleamed from over five years of observations is that Crabbe is part of a three-way homosexual relationship with two other boys in his year. We will get to them shortly. Wave for the crowd Vincent"

Vincent, unable to hear Harry's speech aside the command, waved to the cheering crowd with a big dumb grin on his face.

"In the other corner is the current head of the Crabbe family, Mister… Crabbe! Sorry about that, but we don't actually have his first name, or any facts about him whatsoever. As such, I will make them up! Precious Fluffy-McHairyback Crabbe -- secretly a woman on the inside -- likes to wear ladies undergarments because of how they feel against his skin. Whenever he's not cross-dressing, and sometimes even when he is, he gleefully prances about his residence singing sappy love songs from such artists as Air Supply, Celine Dion, Chicago, and Michael Bolton. Every night he wishes he were born as a woman, but sadly, every morning he wakes in his ugly manly body with all his man parts. Every day he dies a little bit more inside. He's also a death eater. Wave for the crowd Mr. Crabbe."

Crabbe Sr., also unable to hear Harry's speech aside the command, waved to the crowd.

He cleared his throat and watched as the two Crabbes made their way to the center of the arena.

"Anyways, this will be one to see! Pure-blood vs. Pure-blood! Either way, a Crabbe will die by the end of this match! Hell, by the end of the day, there may not be a Crabbe family at all! Wonderful! Fight!"

As proper Pure-bloods, both Crabbes were both trained in proper dueling etiquette.

They both bowed and turned.

Next, they were to walk ten paces. Given however that neither knew how to count very well, it was more like twenty before they made it all the way to 'ten'.

They turned back, both needing to squint in order to see each other.

They both just stood there, standing in their ready poses; waiting.

And waiting.

…And waiting.

"Um, why are you two standing there?"

No response.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, are you waiting for a three count? Fine! One, two, three!"

They both sent out their curses at the same time.

Sr. sent out a bludgeoning curse, while Jr. sent out a stunner.

Both missed; Ten and thirty feet away respectively.

They sent out killing curses.

Both missed; this time even further away.

They both sent curses back and forth for ten minutes, but neither person ended up hitting anywhere near their targets.

"This folks is the awesome power of pure-bloods people! Look at that aim!"

* * *

Voldemort, sitting with the other contestants, was shaking his head in embarrassment.

Worst duelists ever.

After Crabbe Jr. sent one straight up in the air, Tom put his hand over his face and let out a loud groan.

* * *

Over the past ten minutes of dueling, neither had moved from the spots where they started.

They weren't great duelists in the first place, but with the comical distance between each other it was simply impossible to land a hit.

Jr. sent one in daddy's general vicinity.

"Oh so close! Just another twenty feet to the left and he would have had him! What will Precious send in response? Oh! Things are heating up here! That one almost hit the target! Now he just needs to use his newly acquired aim, and shoot for his son and not the rock that was thirty feet away…"

Fluffy-McHairyback suddenly remembered that he could move in a duel, and so decided to do so.

Not forward or anything, no, he just rather shuffled to his left a couple feet.

He sent another couple of spells and started to move again. This time to the right.

As he went, he kept his eyes on the target and completely missed the rock in his path. He tripped over it, and dropped his wand in the process.

He scrambled to his feet, and picked up his wand on his way up.

As he readied his curse, he probably should have taken note of the orientation of his wand.

He had it held backwards.

The curse came out the tip of the wand and he hit his first and only target in the entire match.

Too bad he cut off his own head.

The crowd cheered as the most pathetic duel in the history of magic ended.

Vincent however, was not aware that the duel was over.

He kept spamming his spells repeatedly.

Strange how only after his target was down did he finally score his first hit. Then his second, then his third.

"Vincent! Vincent! For fuck sakes stop! You won! Yes, you. Yes, you really won. Now go back to the waiting room, there is pudding there. Cupcakes too. Good boy."

There wasn't much of a corpse left but a red smear on the ground.

"Okay, um. While dobby cleans the mess, let's take a break and hear from our sponsors. After the break we'll start our next fight, Gregory Goyle vs. Goyle Sr."

* * *

AN: This was a close one. It literally came down to the last vote.

Sr. Won in the polls, but there were a couple Jr. votes in the reviews.

Till next time!

-Lineape


	5. Gregory Goyle vs Goyle Sr

Gregory Goyle vs. Goyle Sr.

* * *

During the short intermission, Harry took a leisurely walk through the crowd.

Despite the previous fight's gruesome end, the crowd was in high spirits.

Executions were public displays and a good clean form of family entertainment back in the day weren't they?

Same kind of thing here, except with magic. Times thirtyish.

Ha, there's even some bloke taking bets for the next match.

Wait, is that Ludo Bagman? Huh, he doesn't look very happy.

Harry walked up to the degenerate gambler and took a peek at the board with the odds thus far.

Tom Riddle vs. Percy Weasley: 100 to 1

Rookwood vs. Nagini: 10 to 1

Crabbe Sr. vs. Vincent Crabbe: 5 to 1

Ouch, the underdog won twice. Hopefully he doesn't get cleaned out by the Goblins this time...

His legs, now properly stretched, led him back to the announcing booth.

He put his feet up, and looked over the field. Dobby was still cleaning up.

What is he...? Is that a shovel?

"Dobby!" harry said. Unfortunately for him, he had his foot sitting on the microphone button, and his side of the conversation was broadcast to everyone.

"Why are you using a shovel to clean?"

"No, you don't need to use a shovel."

"Dobby! I don't care if the cleaning products won't get blood out of dirt; you are not going to remove all of the dirt."

"Because for one it is way too much work, and two, it'll take way too long!"

"No, no one will think any less of you if you can't get rid of the smear."

"No I will not defer to your many years of cleaning service; I have cleaned my share of messes too you know!"

"No, please, stop crying I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay; you're still a good elf."

"Yes you are."

"Dammit Dobby, you're a great elf!"

"Oh, for the love of God, stop crying!"

"I didn't mean it as an order Dobby! Breathe! Breeeeeathe! Merlin, you can cry if you want, but I meant you don't have to. You really are the best elf in the world!"

"No, I'm paying you because if Hermione ever found out that you were bonded to me and I wasn't paying you, she might just cut off my balls. It's not because you're an unworthy elf."

"Stop hitting yourself!"

"Okay, good. Now just sit back and watch. There will be plenty for you to clean up later. Wait, is that mic on? Shit."

A loud screech echoed through the speakers as he took his foot off the microphone.

"Sorry about that folks! Has everyone properly stretched their legs and emptied their bladders? Excellent, we're onto the next round, and what a round it'll be!"

"Like our last match, its once again father against son, but that's where the comparisons between the two end."

"In one corner is Gregory Goyle! Greg has spent the better part of the last six years finding new and creative ways to fail in each and every thing he attempts. In his third year, Greg shattered the previous record for most troll grades in an _entire_ Hogwarts career. If he stays on pace, it is possible that he may very well _double_ the previous record by the end of the year. Compared to Greg, Vincent – the previous match's winner and Greg's secret gay lover – is the most intelligent man on earth. Greg has trouble pronouncing simple sentences on a good day, and on bad days has difficulty remembering to breathe. The only reason that Greg is still in school is because of the ministry's 'No wizard left behind' initiative. Wave for the crowd Greg."

Greg heard everything that was said, but because he was a complete moron, he had no idea he was being insulted.

Greg waved.

"In the other corner is mister Goyle; he had ten O.W.L.s and aside his hobby of raping and killing muggles, he has been spent his adulthood productively working as a spell researcher in the ministry. Mr. Goyle is a Scorpio, and is looking for a new mistress after his previous one left him for a man with a larger penis. He enjoys long walks on the beach and the unforgivable curses. Wave to the crowd Mr. Goyle."

He too heard everything that was said. Unlike his son, he was not an idiot and did not wave.

"No wave? Okay, fight!"

Greg was not a great spell caster, nor was he gifted at speaking properly.

The two were probably connected.

"Fiend-fryer!"

A blurb of fire dribbled out the end of his wand.

"Avril-Lavigne-cadabra!"

A screech of terrible singing echoed for miles. Death by bad music.

Mr. Goyle just stood there; unsure if he was willing to kill his own child.

Greg had no such qualms about his father.

"Ack-eee-oooo" the idiot child intoned, grossly mispronouncing a summoning charm. He thought it was a super powered killing curse.

A cloud of smoke filled the arena. When it dissipated a massive... Frog? Toad?

A massive... something, was sitting where the caster used to be.

"ナルト、今回は何だよ？え？スタジアムの中でなぜ。。。座っているねとねと物には何だ？"

The animal looked beneath itself and said, "ああ、いや"

As suddenly as it appeared, the giant toad-thing abruptly disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a thoroughly crushed (and splattered) body, and a tremendously confused audience.

"Huh, not every day you see someone crushed by a giant talking frog. Even rarer when the frog speaks Japanese. Winner Mr. Goyle."

"Dobby, you know how I said there would be plenty of things to clean up later? This most definitely counts."

"Looks like another break is in store. Dobby will probably even need to take out his shovel because Greg seems to have been really shoved in there."

"In five, no, make it ten minutes the next match will start and I'm sure Dobby will love to clean that one up; Draco Malfoy vs. Lucius Malfoy!"

* * *

AN: If you get the giant toad reference, kudos. If not, then you felt the same confusion the audience felt.

I didn't use an online translator for the Japanese lines; thanks to Intelligo for the translation.

Then again, I don't know Japanese, so for all I know the dude sent me something that translates to "Lineape likes to suck on cocks! He can't read this so... Ha!"

If so, then how have I offended you?!

If not, then thanks again.

-Lineape

PD: Goyle Sr. won, this one again coming down to review votes


	6. Draco Malfoy vs Lucius Malfoy

Draco Malfoy vs. Lucius Malfoy

* * *

The mess looked worse than it really was.

Aside the fact that the corpse was well pressed, there wasn't any real damage.

It wasn't necessary, but Dobby still insisted on the shovel.

Harry, realizing that an argument would take longer than just letting Dobby do his thing, sat back and watched as the elf dug a giant hole around the wafer thin body.

Well, the tournament had been a success thus far.

Harry was just so happy they liked it. He put so much work into balancing the matches... errr... the totally random matches that is.

Harry couldn't wait to see the next match, and going by Dobby's hasty half-assed cleaning, he'd bet the elf couldn't wait to see it either.

How often does one get to watch their former masters die painfully?

Along those same lines, Harry couldn't wait 'til the Dursleys died painfully... errr... fought bravely in a totally even match.

Dudley had boxing training, so maybe he could put up a fight? Killing curse vs. right hook.

...It could happen.

Vernon always liked to brag about having a gun on him at all times. Perhaps an upset was in order?

Petunia however, didn't have a chance in hell, well, unless she used her unusually long neck to... nope nothing useful about a long neck in a fight.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by a loud popping noise.

"Does Dobby get to see bad masters die now?"

"Only one for now. There's no need for them all to die right away, and think Dobby, not only do you get to see one of them die, but you get to clean up afterwards."

"Yous is the bestest master ever! Okay. Dobby will find some popcorn."

"Hurry, I'm starting the match right away!"

-Pop-

He readied the microphone.

"And that folks, is how you dismember a human body to make for easier cartage. Anyways, this next match will be a doozie! Like the last two, it's father and son, but who? The Malfoys!"

"Draco has spent the better part of the past five years coming up with such witty insults as 'Potty' and 'Gryffindork'. Many years of Malfoy inbreeding... excuse me... breeding has clearly gifted young Draco with a fine mind. Draco is the third and final member of the 'Slytherin three', possibly better known to other Slytherins as 'those three gay blokes we have to share a dorm with'. Draco Malfoy everybody! Wave Draco, for this is your fifteen minutes of fame!"

Draco reluctantly waved.

"And Lucius, oh how far you have fallen. Two years ago you were one of the most powerful men in the ministry. A little bag of gold, and you could have almost anything you wanted. Then you had to rejoin with your precious Lord Voldemort and take his orders; rejoin being the operative term here given that it wasn't through the Imperius that you had joined previously."

"Even just a short year ago you were a pillar in the community. Now what are you? A fugitive from the law. A weakling and a coward. A man who has lost all political and economic power. Even if you win this fight, you're still a loser. Lucius Malfoy everyone! You've had your fifteen minutes and then some, this is your five minutes of infamy! Wave!"

Lucius had the grace to hang his head in shame.

"The fight of losers, begin!"

Neither wizard moved. They stood not twenty feet from eachother.

"So, what do we do here Draco?"

"I do not know Father."

"By the end of this, the Malfoy line will be down to one."

"Yes."

"Should I let you live to continue to Malfoy name?"

"I would be okay with that."

"I bet you would, coward that you are. Perhaps I should kill you and father another heir? You have been a great disappointment to me after all, Draco."

"Disappointment? I make the mudblood's lives hell at Hogwarts!"

"Where is the subtly? The cunning, the guile? You were born into a noble family and sorted into a honorable house. Your childish squabbles with all the mudbloods is an insult."

"But you said that --"

"In my day, if a mudblood wronged you, you stuck a knife in it's throat and watched as it's filthy blood pooled on the floor. You, on the other hand, have been beaten soundly by the same mudblood your entire time at the school. You should have killed her long ago."

"But she --"

"We will fight Draco. If you win, then you are the head of the family and I am wrong about you. If I win, then I was right all along about you. You are weak. Just like your mother. I will sire another heir, and make him better than you."

"Fine! I'll kill you old man!"

"Such impudence. Your successor will be much better mannered. Avada Kedevra!"

Draco was on the ball, and calmly sidestepped the curse.

After turning his body to the side to create a smaller target, he linked together a trio of dark curses in quick succession, aiming them in a wide spread.

Lucius was already on the move. Recognizing the first curse as an intestines exploding curse, he put up the proper shield and sent it back in Draco's direction.

As the teen dove away from his own curse, Lucius had his hands full with the other two curses.

The bone crusher could be blocked easily; the cruciatus curse however, could not.

Decades of proper dueling training told him what to do.

A perfect textbook curse and roll sent a fresh bone crusher at his son, while he rolled out of the torture curse's way.

Getting to his feet, Draco saw the bone crusher at the last moment.

He dropped to the ground once again to evade the spell, but as he went down, his left hand was not tight to his body and the spell lightly grazed it.

Draco cried out as four fingers were instantly mangled beyond repair.

Lucius laughed.

"You were always weak. Narcissa may have defended you from my wrath at home, but she can't save you in here, boy."

Draco looked at his father with intense loathing.

"You can't cry to your mother now boy. Show me how weak you are."

"I'm not _**weak!**_"

He punctuated that comment with a silent red curse.

Not knowing what the curse was, Lucius dove to the right and watched as the curse splattered across a large rock.

Draco was now on the attack.

Over the next thirty seconds, the boy sent out a dozen curses. Some curses were silent, and with some the incantations were shouted out as loud as his voice could handle.

He threw everything he could at the man.

Blasting charm.

Tickling charm.

Unforgiveables.

Jelly legs jinx.

Stunners.

And many spells that would easily be classified as 'Dark Arts'.

Lucius did the best he could to evade the multitude of spells, but there were just so damn many!

He threw up a hasty shield for the stunner, then dodged a killing curse.

Another bone crusher soared over his head.

While a decapitation curse was straight on course to hit him center mass, a tickling charm was set in his only path of escape.

Weighing his options, Lucius dove away from the lethal curse and let the minor one hit him.

He giggled for a moment before silently applying the countercurse.

What a waste of magic that was.

"Draco, how many times have I told you how useless those are? Tickling charms have no place in a duel!"

Draco had no response aside to send off another three spells.

Lucius took note of the spells and saw amongst them two lethal curses and yet _another_ tickling charm.

What is wrong with that child?

Seeing an opening, Lucius decided to take it.

He dove into the reddish pink curse and at the same time sent a blasting charm at his son.

The two spells both hit their targets at the same time.

The blasting charm hit Draco in the chest, blowing a hole straight through.

He fell to the ground, dead within seconds.

At the same time, the spell that Lucius assumed was another tickling charm hit, and when it did, he wasn't laughing.

He was screaming.

Quite loudly at that.

It quickly became apparent why; a big red splotch started to grow on his robes. In a rather delicate area...

"Oh, that has got to hurt. Draco, in a brilliant move, used a curse that looked nearly identical to a simple tickling charm. For those not in the know, the tickling charm and the castration curse look very similar to each-other."

"Amazing, I described this as the fight of the losers, and boy was I right. Even in victory, the Malfoy family loses. Perhaps Lucius should have prescribed to the 'heir and a spare' philosophy?"

"Anyways, winner, Lucuis Malfoy! Well, sort of."

Harry Put his hand over the mic.

"Was it everything you dreamed it could be Dobby?"

"It coulds have been messier," the elf replied, between handfuls of popcorn.

"Well, at least you get to clean something up, right?"

"After Dobby is done with the popcorn."

"Okay, after another short break, we start with our next match, Narcissa Malfoy vs. Antonin Doholov!"


	7. Narcissa Malfoy vs Antonin Doholov

Wow, Dobby sure was taking his time cleaning up…

Then again, could you really blame him? It's not every day you get to clean up the messy corpse of your relentless abuser. That, and Draco really was quite a mess. The curse blew a hole with a one foot diameter straight through his torso; needless to say, there was a nice splotch of blood and guts directly behind dear ol' Draco's body.

Dobby was sure getting his money's worth though; seeing how the elf treated former master's corpse, Harry quietly swore to himself to treat Dobby with the utmost respect from there on in.

The manic smile on his face as Dobby dismembered the stiff would be nightmare fuel to every pureblood family with house elves for decades to come.

Funny how Harry did more good for the elves in one afternoon then Hermione did with all her S.P.E.W.; no one would mistreat their elves again after that day.

After a lengthy – and quite frankly disturbing – clean-up session, Dobby popped back into Harry's press box with a floppy piece of flesh in each hand.

…Is that?

"…Dobby, why are you carrying those, um, penises?"

"Dobby was thinking of mounting thems on a wall like bad mistress always said the Blackses did with their Elves heads."

Harry, in the shock of seeing the elf with… members in hand, pressed the speaker button. The whole audience heard everything.

By the end of the week, house elf use in Britain fell well over ninety percent. After giving their servants clothes, the most commonly cited reason was a fear of insane elves and their penis obsessions.

Harry on the other hand, was now more terrified of his own elf than he ever was of his supposed 'arch nemesis'. Looking into Dobby's crazed eyes, Harry wondered not for the first time if employing dobby was a very smart idea.

Hell, he couldn't give the guy clothes for fear of losing his own dangly bits.

Harry was jolted out of his nightmarish thoughts by a knocking at his door.

Ah! A perfect way to get Dobby out of the room!

"Um, that's a good plan with the um… Can you tell me who's at the door… please?"

"Rights away!"

-pop-

-pop-

Dobby came back pulling his ears.

"Well, who is it?"

"It bes the bad mistress."

"Let her in, you can go and work on your, um… project."

-pop-

"That elf was always insane. I always said, 'Lucius! Stop hitting the thing that prepares your food!' Now granted the beast never poisoned him like I thought he might, but I doubt my husband will be getting his um, thing, back any time soon."

"Dobby has something planned for it."

"I heard."

"So Cissy, can I call you Cissy?"

"You shall refer to me as Narcissa Malfoy, or lady."

"So Cissy, what can I do for you?"

"It's Narcis – never mind. Not worth the effort."

"It really isn't, don't fight it. So what do you need Cissy?"

"I have come to offer you a proposition."

"I like propositions. Color me intrigued."

"I thought you would be. I don't want to die Potter, what do you want to make sure I win?"

"Well, what are you offering?"

"Lucius will be dead soon. I will pay you handsomely with his money."

"You wound me! What could possibly make you think I would accept a bribe?"

"Please, this tournament is a joke. It's a game made solely for your own amusement. You're making it up as you go."

"And what happens if Lucius offers me the same thing in the next round?"

"He wouldn't"

"Well, what if he did? Should I bring him in here and start a little bidding war?"

"No, that will not be necessary; what do you want?"

"The Potters are sufficiently wealthy. With the black estate also under my control, I don't think I need more money."

"So you do not want any of the Malfoy wealth?"

"No, I'll take that from you. All of it. Every last knut. But what else can you offer me?"

"Well…"

* * *

"You really are quite the sex kitten aren't you Cissy?"

"It's been quite a while since I've done _that_."

"I can't see how. If I were Lucius – and I still had access to my penis of course – I don't think I could keep my hands off you."

"That's kind of you, but if that little 'Slytherin three' comment you made about Draco and his friends was true, then the boy was clearly taking after his father in that regard."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. He only went after me when he wanted an heir, after that he kept to his boys."

"Huh…"

"The loss of his junk won't even impede his sex life given that he's a bottom."

"Too much information Cissy, far too much."

"Perhaps. So, do we have a deal?"

"Sure, you win this fight."

"Thank you."

"Wow, blonds really are sluts. I wonder what Draco would say if he could see you now?"

At that exact moment, a ghost floated into the room.

"Potter! It's your fault I'm like this! I'm going to haunt you until—Mommy…?"

"Hello Draco dear."

"You don't need to call me daddy right away if you don't want to, but I still demand that you respect me like a father."

The ghost let out a high pitched scream before exploding. It left behind a white mist for a moment, but then even that dissipated.

"I did not see that coming."

"Me neither."

"Get dressed, and go down to the arena. I'll figure out a way to let you win."

"Bye stud."

* * *

"Before we start out next match, I need to announce a new rule: No contestant born outside Britain with a given name starting with the letter 'A' and a surname beginning with the letter 'D' May use a wand during their fight, nor are they allowed to attack or defend themselves in any way."

Doholov looked quite confused as his fingers suddenly lost grip on his wand.

"I for one think it's a totally reasonable rule. Match start!"

Narcissa instantly sent a curse at Doholov and he fell lifelessly to the ground.

"Winner Cissy! Err... Narcissa Malfoy! Next fight is Bellatrix Lestrange vs. Rabastan Lestrage!"

* * *

AN: this one was a blowout. Not even close, so i felt the need to have the fight reflect that.

The deaths were Slytherin66's idea! Kudos!


	8. Bellatrix Lestrange vs Rabastan Lestran

Bellatrix Lestrange vs. Rabastan Lestrange

* * *

In the mood to change things up a bit, Harry gave his next address to the spectators while standing and pacing.

"Sorry for the delay people! Things got out of hand and stuff and then there was this thing with a terrible smell and then… oh my!"

While pacing Harry had made his way closer and closer to the glass wall that separated his booth from the crowd and the arena below. The more he spoke, the closer he got to the edge.

"My word, just a little further and I may have broken the fourth wall there. Shattered the thing into millions of little pieces. No one wants that!"

* * *

An elderly couple sat in the crowd and listened to Harry's rant over the loud speaker. They saw him walk up to the glass wall and rap against it a few times.

The man turned to his wife and asked, "What in Merlin's bollocks is he talking about? Delays? The last fight only ended like ten seconds ago!"

"What!" his wife cried, leaning into her husband's shoulder and cupping a hand over her ear for better acoustics.

"I said, the last fight— oh never mind! This tournament thing sure is silly, eh Penny?"

"What? The spearmint trees are filling? What in heaven's name is that supposed to mean!"

"And what's this talk about the fourth wall? This isn't a play!"

"I will NOT play with your balls out her in public, you should be ashamed for saying something like that!" she bellowed.

A family of four sitting behind them decided at that moment to find new seats.

"I didn't say… oh! Look dear, that pretty woman from the last fight is up in the booth with him!"

"You think I'm pretty! Why you old dog you, flattery will get you everywhere! But don't think that comment will white out that dirty comment from before! Only at home can you speak to me in such a way!" she shouted.

"No, I said Potter's talking with… oh never mind. Oh, and there's someone else up there too!"

"If you have to go number two, just go! There's house elves here to clean up the mess dear."

"Wow, it sure looks like quite the argument up there. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in that room!"

"Why would I keep parchment in my hair? You know sometimes – ever since you gave that stone to Albus – I've worried about your sanity, and its comments like those that make me wonder!"

"Damn it woman, I didn't know what he was—"

"**For the last time Cissy! I WILL NOT FUCK YOUR SISTER!"**

"What did he say he was going to do to that lawn chair dear?"

* * *

Harry noticed that while gripping the mic he accidentally flicked the switch once again.

Leaning back into the mic he quickly said, "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Just a few more moments."

Carefully taking his hand off the record button and placing the microphone on the desk, he turned to the girls.

"No. Abso-fucking-lutely not."

"But… but… why not!" Narcissa wined like a spoiled child.

"I've already explained this a dozen times but once more couldn't hurt any. You're the hot sister, she's the ugly one. And before you suggest it _again_ a paper bag _will not help_!"

"Is iddy-widdy Potty afwaid of what a real giwrl can do?"

"No. How are you not getting this? It's not even just the face (or how evil you are for that matter!) – That's bad enough – but clearly Azkaban has not done you any favors woman! While I'm sure there is some bloke in the world desperate enough to give you a pity lay, I myself have far too many options amongst my fans to degrade myself by having sex with what at first blush appears to be a fucking _corpse!_" Harry screamed quickly adding, "No paper bag in _existence_ can cover that up!"

"What if I had sex with you again? Would that make it worthwhile?"

"Look Cissy. You're great and all, but I'm just a regular bloke. The spirit's willing, but the flesh is weak and floppy at the moment. Ask me again in another half hour if you're really that randy, okay Cissy?"

"Okay…" Narcissa replied reluctantly.

"Alright! Now, to be honest ladies, I don't think you need to worry that much about the fight. From what I hear, Bellatrix is supposed to be the second most powerful dark witch or wizard alive. I'm sure you can handle your dimwitted and jealous brother-in-law."

"Maybe…"

"Okay, so get the fuck out of my office! Sorry, I've always wanted to say that." He then turned to Bella once again, "But seriously, get the fuck out. Cissy, you can stay. Who knows, with your looks and my youthful vigor it might take a little less than half an hour."

* * *

"**Allright folks, our next fight is between the deathly pale (and very saggy bosomed) Bellatrix Lestrange and her brother-in-law Rabastan Lestrange. Now as we wait for the two opponents I feel the need to entertain you. Did you know that researchers at the French ministry have invented a new type of broom? Yes, it's quite the achievement in innovation; it has 10 speed settings: Nine for reverse, and one goes forward in case the enemy attacks from behind!"**

Resounding cheers came from the British crowd.

"**Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week. Actually not really, that's just an expression."**

"I would probably be offended." Nicholas Flamel said, "If it wasn't actually true."

"Of course the hippogriff naturally flew!"

"How could you possibly get that from what I just said?"

"No, no one threw rum on your head dear."

The man sighed.

* * *

Rabastan and Bellatrix stood a dozen feet away from each-other waiting for their fight to start.

The man started to giggle.

"Has my widdle bwother-in-law gone cwazy?

"Hehehe… Saggy bosomed…"

"What did you say?"

"Potter described you as saggy bosomed. I don't envy my brother, that's for sure! He would always brag to me about father's choice in his bride. 'Shes a Black brother! A _black! _You know what they say about Blacks don't you? I'm doin' it daily, nightly, and ever so rightly!' Probably wishes that wasn't true now eh?"

"I'll have you know my breasts are perfectly fine! Glorious, hell, magical even!"

"Well, they don't look it."

"**They really don't**"

"Shut up Potter! You wanna see 'em again? My breasts are fan-bloody-tastic!"

* * *

Harry, knowing exactly what was coming, decided then and there to save entire generations of witches and wizards from years and years of extensive therapy.

He pressed a button that had totally there from the start, and a solid and opaque wall designed to shield against the strongest of spells – and artillery shells – sprung up around the battlefield.

He waited, and waited, and after ten minutes or so, he thought it safe enough to remove the wall and did just that.

As the walls slid back into the ground the crowd saw the two forms of the contestants.

One was kneeling on the ground and looked to be crying, while the other lay prone on the ground.

With a sudden pop, Harry appeared next to the kneeling figure.

"What happened in here?"

"He… he… he took one look and…"

"And what?"

"He vomited... and vomited... and then there was the blood…"

"The sight of your breasts caused him to die?"

"It wasn't just the breasts… I dropped my robe entirely!"

"Dear God woman! What were you _thinking_! **THERE ARE CHILDREN IN THIS STADIUM**! Violence, death, and dismemberment I can understand letting them watch, but what if they had seen that!"

"I didn't know… I… I thought I was still pretty!"

"_Hell_ no!"

"Well… I know that now…"

"New rule! No one, I repeat _**NO ONE**_, may disrobe at _**ANY TIME**_ during this tournament without my express permission!"

"But… okay… that's fair…"

"This rule is doubly important for you Bella. And Dumbledore. Eeeh… and Umbridge. Hell… with how unattractive most of you are, I think an instant death penalty should be applied to anyone who even _attempts_ to disrobe without my express permission…"

"Maybe…"

"Well, I guess we have our winner. You sick, sick woman."

* * *

"Okay, to clear the mental images that this last fight has conjured, let's just start the next one right away. Rodolphus Lestrange vs. Vernon Dursley!"

Harry then switched off the mic and turned to the woman in his booth.

"Sorry Cissy, with that last one it might just take a bit longer than half an hour."

Swaying her hips, she sauntered over to his chair.

"Are you sure?" she asked while slowly removing her robe.

"Pretty sure…" he said, looking away and sighing.

She grabbed his face and made him look at her. There stood the stunning Narcissa Malfoy in all her glory, with not a strand of cloth on her body.

"Are you _sure_?" she asked again.

Instantly he forgot why he wanted her to leave.

"Not at all, perhaps you should convince me?" he said slowly and carefully, all the while finding a more comfortable position in his chair. "Tell me Cissy, do you know how to dance?"

* * *

AN: Sorry for the delay folks! And Sorry about _almost_ breaking the fourth wall up there at the start of the chapter. _Totally _unintentional that was.

Bella won this in a landslide. In fact, it was the biggest landslide in the history of this story! So, I felt the need to have the 'fight' be equally as one sided.

So, who wins in the next fight? Rodolphus, the muggle hater and husband to Bella, or Vernon the muggle who may or may not have a pistol to shoot the wizard in the head with?

Vote for Rodolphus by calling 1-866-IDOLS-01

Or by texting vote to 5701

Wait, wrong show. Forget everything I just wrote.

BTW, blame slytherin66 for the delay in the next chapter on Darkly Dreaming Harry, because in his review of the newest chapter of Wizards are stupid he practically _begged_ for a new chapter of this story. Well, he didn't actually beg. But was in the ones of his voi... text.

-Lineape


End file.
